


1990 Black Ice

by Spot_On60



Series: Black Ice [6]
Category: Dark Shadows (1966)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:33:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spot_On60/pseuds/Spot_On60
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one takes care of Barnabas like Willie and no one cares for Willie like Barnabas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1990 Black Ice

 

**1990 Black Ice**

The driver opened the trunk and brought Willie's bags in the front door of the Old House. "Nice place."

"Thanks. It's a perpetual work in progress," he said pressing a tip into the man's palm.

Closing the door he called for Barnabas, checking the front parlor and library. Not really expecting an answer, he left his briefcase in the library and carried his bags to his room where Barnabas had lit the courting candle for him. Changing into his jeans, T-shirt and sweatshirt were foremost on his mind. Comfortable, he sorted clean from dirty, hanging items in his armoire and tucking the bags in the bottom. Grabbing his pile of laundry he hit the back stairs. Finding his way in the dark he crossed through the kitchen to what they had dubbed the back room. With a flip of the light he went straight for the antique cabinet housing the laundry basket. After brushing the airplane food out of his teeth he checked his mail basket; all garbage. He found a ginger ale in the fridge and checked for messages on the answering machine.

_Gotta remember to talk to Barnabas about the phone company voice mail._

He wrote a note to himself on the pad by the phone. He didn't trust himself to remember without the cue. He now had pads throughout the house where he could leave reminders to himself.

It was an exceptionally warm evening, at least for late winter in northern New England. This wouldn't last. Winter didn't give up this easily in Maine, but he was going to enjoy it while he could. Opening the back door he turned off the light and took his old wool pea coat from the rack, slipping it on as he stepped outside. Pulling the hood of his sweatshirt out and buttoning the jacket he looked over the short distance of lawn leading to the pines. Between the roof of the porch and the height of the pine trees he couldn’t see the night sky. The lawn appeared lit under its own power. Descending the steps the sky soared above him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he looked up to the stars.

_I'm at peace, Jason._

He was so looking forward to seeing Barnabas and hoped he wouldn't be long. There was a feeling of warm pressure inside him. When he heard the back door closing he had to stop himself from running across the yard to the man.

Barnabas had seen him through the window. He was wearing his old navy blue coat. The vampire noted the handsome set of his shoulders and his trim legs. He was looking up to the stars, no doubt talking with his friend Jason. Closing the door behind him, Willie spun around at the sound. As Barnabas crossed the planks and stepped onto the grass he saw there was something different about the man. He wore a smile that could only be described as infectious. Hurrying across the lawn, hands in pockets his sandy hair was blown and ruffled by the sea breeze cascading off the tops of the pines. Within feet of reaching him, Barnabas was overtaken by his beauty in the light of the stars and moon. He took in an involuntary sharp breath as Willie took his face in both hands and kissed him. Kissed him the way Jason had once kissed Willie the night he taught him to dance, in a hotel on the other side of the world, a lifetime ago.

Willie's hands settled between their chests as he pressed his forehead to the vampire's shoulder. This had become their way. Barnabas tried to tame the fluttering hair only to bury his nose deep inside it, into the back of Willie’s neck. He drew in his scent and exhaled a murmur that could only be understood by his companion.

Willie rolled his shoulders forward prompting Barnabas to tighten his hold. He sighed with it. This is where he most liked to be. Held by this man who made him feel no harm would come to him. Held by this man who just barely rocked him, who stroked his back. He knew it wouldn’t matter how old he became he would always seek the comfort he could find here. The pressure he felt while waiting had dissipated and he melted into the embrace as the distant sounds of the sea circled above and around them.

Barnabas realized he was smiling, something he had been doing more of lately.

 

It was just past two in the morning when Barnabas went to Willie’s room. He looked down at the sleeping man. From what Willie had told him tonight when he returned from New York, it wouldn’t be much longer he would be checking on his companion during the night. There would be many more changes coming soon.

The courting candle was on its way to snuffing itself out. Next to it on the writing table sat the seldom used electric lamp. When the electricians had wired the back room he had asked them if they could get electricity to Willie’s room. There was one outlet installed in which the lamp was plugged. Willie appreciated having the plug and Barnabas’ thoughtfulness, but seldom used the lamp. With so many rooms at his disposal during the day and his preference for being downstairs with Barnabas at night he didn’t often have occasion to use the lamp. Having been acclimated to not having it for over twenty years he didn’t seem to be able to make a habit of lighting it. He had tried it set on low as a nightlight, but found he couldn’t sleep with it the way he did with the courting candle. The light it cast was so different and though he didn’t say it, it was in the back of his mind Barnabas would stop coming to his room every night or early morning if the courting candle wasn’t used. After all these years it still touched him to wake seeing Barnabas tending the lantern.

Barnabas had also purchased a space heater for him. This was used more than the lamp. The vampire would turn it on for him in the early morning hours when it was overly cold, pointing it towards the drafty window. These were only minimal changes made in and around the Old House.

Over a year and a half Willie managed to design the back room to contain every modern convenience he could imagine yet with little indication it was anything more than a scullery chamber. He took his time searching for every item, always keeping in mind if it could be purchased to appear antique or how would be the best way to conceal it. The stove looked remarkably like the old iron one in the kitchen yet under the six hot plates were six various gas burners plus a griddle in the center. There was a false door between the two ovens to mimic a coal port. With a purchase from Rejuvenators Salvage he converted an entire set of butler pantry cabinets into a combination of shelves, cabinets and false doors.

He cleverly hid and disguised a washer and dryer, refrigerator, hot water heater, built-in space heaters, dishwasher, microwave, a new sink that looked like the old sink and his favorite – a full bath with hot and cold running water, sink, toilet, soaking tub and shower.

He had started to get on Barnabas’ nerves constantly asking if this or that would be alright with him. Barnabas was becoming exasperated telling him he trusted Willie’s judgment on purchases or if that’s what Willie wanted that’s what he should have.

Although a fax and an answering machine were concealed inside a cabinet, a portable phone and a computer were in view on a desk within a windowed alcove. He had travelled to Bangor for two semesters to initially learn to use the computer. He then traded in classes for his old tried and true – books. After learning the basics in class he built up his knowledge of various programs through library books. He introduced the vampire to what Barnabas referred to as the “contraption” thinking it would become a very useful tool for their business dealings. He had dragged him kicking and screaming to the fax machine and now the vampire wouldn’t be able to manage without it. He had heard through his classes the future of communications would be in computers and he wanted himself and Barnabas to be ready when the future became now.

Besides, he worried sometimes about Barnabas and the modern world in general. He could become so lost. He often didn't have a base to build on. Anytime there was an opportunity to introduce him to emerging technology he did. Something that was new to everyone worked well for him. It was easier for Barnabas when he wasn't the only one muddling through.

This and that around the house received attention. The front parlor had received a facelift. After deciding it looked like a set from an odd 1960’s soap opera rather than a representation of an 18th century receiving room, the upholstery and curtains were replaced. The gardens had after many years grown into their own. The flagstone pathway finally led to various outdoor areas. One could follow it to the rose or cutting gardens, to the carport tucked behind shrubs, to the path to the beach, or to the path through the pines to Widow’s Hill. An outside crew was called in to make repairs and repaint the exterior. A security system had also been installed, including lights in the newly planted shrubs that were set off if anyone approached the house.

 

Some things never changed. Barnabas still looked the same as he did the night he arrived from (nudge-nudge) England. He had been in his twenties when he became a vampire, but spending close to two hundred years starving in a coffin had aged him. He appeared to be around Willie’s current age of forty-six; although, his hard body made of sculpted muscle and tightly wound tendons and ligaments seemed to belong to someone else entirely.

The view to the sea from Widow’s Hill was still punctuated by the waves tumbling to the shore. There was still a large rock set high on the beach, perfect for watching the waves as they came crashing in. Collinwood continued to stand sentinel at the top of the hill.

There were changes outside the estate. Since 1966 the population of the town had grown from 1,936 to 3,782. There was a satellite of Collinsport Hospital on the west side of town. It was close to the new housing development out there. The grade school had been expanded. The taxes had gone up. Fewer of the fishermen’s sons followed in their father’s footsteps, but more of their daughters did. Going downtown was turning into a bit of a hassle now that there was competition for parking and one often had to wait in line to be served. Collinsport had turned into a destination instead of a pass through. It was filled with gift shops, art shops and galleries. A coded electric gate was installed at the bottom of the estate road to keep tourists out. Fewer people had their paychecks signed by a Collins. The Collins family was changing as well. The generations were rolling along as they had for hundreds of years.

 

***************************

 

_“October nineteenth nineteen ninety - You have three new messages.”_

Elizabeth Collins Stoddard was dead.

Willie listened to the messages left on the machine. They must have come in while he slept and Barnabas was out. The answering machine was another contraption Barnabas avoided until he was forced to work it.

The first message was from Vicki saying an ambulance had been called when Mrs. Stoddard had been found collapsed in her room. He wondered what Vicki was doing there. She had moved to Boston, married and been widowed. Willie had had lunch with her on one of his recent trips. The next was Vicki again, this time she had received a call from Roger saying Mrs. Stoddard couldn’t be revived. The third call was from an obviously distraught Roger, telling Barnabas himself that his sister was gone.

Willie paced in the back room going over scenarios, trying to decide on the best one. It couldn’t wait until Barnabas rose tonight. He would need to call to Collinwood himself and he needed to buy time for Barnabas. What he came up with may have been convoluted, but it covered their bases. He called United to get the flight information he needed.

He worked up his nerve and dialed Collinwood, Vicki answered.

“Hi Vicki, it’s Willie.”

“Oh Willie, I’m so glad you called. It’s been terrible over here.”

“I’m sure. I’m so sorry to hear about Mrs. Stoddard. I know how fond you were of her.”

“She was so very good to me. You know, I always liked to think of her as my mother. Do you know what I mean? Isn’t that how you feel about Barnabas?”

“Uhh, well not exactly. But I get what you mean. I’m sorry I missed your calls. I don’t always hear the phone at night.”

“Was Barnabas out?”

“Yeah, well he’s out of town. And I can’t reach him.”

“Oh no. Roger will be so disappointed.”

“Yeah, but it can’t be helped.”

“Where did he go?”

“Australia.”

“Australia?! What’s he doing there?”

 _Keep it simple Willie_ , “He has business there and since he’s never been there he thought he’d go in person and have a little vacation. I drove him to Logan yesterday. He’s literally in the air right now. He won’t be landing until four or five this afternoon. Then getting to the hotel and …. Well I won’t be able to reach him until tonight.”

“Oh dear. Umm …. I don’t know what to say.”

“Is Roger around?”

“He’s here but I think he’s sleeping. He and David were up all night.”

“Well you wanna pass that on for me? And tell him he’s welcome to call me if he wants to.”

“Sure I’ll do that, Willie.”

“Hey Vicki, what are you doing there?”

“David invited me for the weekend. He’s moving back here you know. Between you and me I think he was hoping I would come back to be governess to his daughter.”

“Yeah? Ya thinking of doing that?”

“No, I’m really happy at the school I’m at in Boston.”

“Yeah …. Well, Vicki …. I’m really sorry for your loss. And if I don’t hear from Roger sometime today, I’ll be calling back tonight after I get a hold of Barnabas.”

“Okay. I’ll pass it on. And thank you, Willie.”

He hung up the phone and let out a sigh. He didn’t like lying to Vicki.

He spent the day puttering around the house. He really wanted to get back to winterizing the gardens, but didn’t want to miss any calls. The phone didn’t work all the way out by the gardens so he was stuck inside. Roger did call, but only briefly. Willie promised to reach him that night.

At twenty after four he went around and closed all of the first floor curtains then he went to the basement and sat on the steps waiting for Barnabas. It had been years since he sat vigil like this. It was creeping him out a little, but he didn’t want to miss him. Every now and again Barnabas would go out through the passages that lead to the cliffs and Willie didn’t see him until his return hours later. He didn’t want to chance that and have Barnabas find his way to Collinwood.

It was only five minutes or so before Barnabas opened the lid. He couldn’t have been more surprised to see Willie there. “What are you doing here? Has something happened?”

Willie told him about the calls and what he had told Vicki and Roger.

“Australia?! Why on Earth did you tell them that? I should be heading directly over there.”

“Because Barnabas, you can’t be here during the day for the funeral. It's the best reason why you can’t be here.”

“You’ve made it impossible for me to go there at all. I could be there tonight and be busy during the day.”

“No ya can’t. If you really were available during the day you would cancel all appointments and, well, be available. But you aren’t so you can’t.”

“I see what you mean. But why Australia?”

“Because it takes over thirty hours to get there and the flights are sporadic. That gives us a couple of hours for me to drive you to Bangor and back and to think this through. And funerals are usually three or four days after someone dies. If we do this right you miss the funeral but arrive back that night.” He wasn’t sure if Barnabas was following his logic. He’d explain it again in the car. “Let’s get going.”

“Shouldn’t we call Roger first?” asked Barnabas.

“Okay. But I think I should tell him I still can’t reach you. Then we’ll go to Bangor and have a plan ready when we get back. You think more clearly after you’ve fed.”

 

Returning to the Old House Willie dropped the keys in the dish on the counter and said, “Okay. That’s our story and we’re sticking to it.”

“Of course we’re ‘sticking to it’. Why would we do anything else?” Sometimes Willie said the oddest things.

Willie opened his mouth to explain, then thought better of it.

“What?” asked the vampire. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing Barnabas,” Willie was smiling. “Come on. Let’s call Roger.”

 

Willie attended the wake for Elizabeth Collins Stoddard. He paid his respects to David, now a grown man with a beautiful trust fund wife and beautiful double trust fund daughter. “I’m very sorry for your loss, David.”

“Mr. Collins.”

“I beg your pardon.”

My name is ‘Mr. Collins,’” he said looking down what could have been his father’s nose.

Willie just looked at him. _I should have let Barnabas do away with you a long time ago. But no, not me, 'He’s just a little kid, Barnabas.' Whatever._

He made his way to Roger, who upon seeing Willie thought of his cousin, eyes welling. Willie melted and hugged him. “I’m so sorry, Roger. Barnabas will be getting back here sometime tomorrow evening. He’s so very sorry he’ll miss the funeral.”

Next he found Carolyn. She was hidden halfway behind a tall stand. It held a massive funeral arrangement; she held a cocktail.

“Hi Carolyn, I’m so sor …. “

“Oh Willie!” she wailed and threw her arms around him. He could feel cold on his neck and wondered how much of her drink was now on his back. _Great. Now I’m going to smell like booze_.

“Why don’t you come sit down?” he said taking her elbow.

“No. I don’t want to.” She could see her most recent husband, Neil, eyeing her with this handsome man who was a stranger to him. He looked pissed and was making his way through the crowd toward them. “I’d rather just stay here out of sight. But I slaw Vicki sitting by herself. I bet she could use some companies.” She was starting to slur.

“Yeah, Carolyn I …. ,“ he began.

Hubby was almost on them. She gave Willie a little shove and said. “Really, go over by her.”

“Okay, Carolyn.” He turned around right into her husband. “Oh …. Excuse me.”

He dipped around the man, and as he walked away he could hear behind him, “Who was _that_? _Another_ one of the old boyfriends?”

He heard Carolyn start to blubber. He turned around and went back to her. Brushing past Neil like he wasn’t there he took her free hand, “Carolyn, I should have said this before, call us while you’re here. Your cousin and I would love to have you for dinner.” He squeezed her hand and bent to give her a kiss on the cheek.

He turned around slamming the husband’s arm and shoulder with his own. “Excuse me! I’m Carolyn's hus …. “

Willie was quick to look at him with a smile, “Oh …. No need to apologize,” and kept walking. _Asshole_. He glimpsed over his shoulder to Carolyn and winked. She thanked him with a tilted head and smile. When hubby turned to see who she was looking at Willie already held Vicki’s hand in his.

“How are you holding up, Vicki?”

“It’s been really rough, Willie.”

“Yeah, I bet it has. Can I sit here with ya?”

“Yes, I wish you would. Roger told me to sit here in the family section,” she explained while he sat, “…but everyone just smiles and walks past me.”

“Don’t let it bother you.”

“I heard Barnabas will be here tomorrow evening?” lifting her voice, turning it into a question.

“Yeah.“ They settled into an easy conversation.

“Loomis,” it was David peering down at him.

“Yeah, David?,” deliberately skipping the Mr. Collins bullshit.

“This section is for the family.”

Knowing both men, Vicki could see where this was going, “I asked him to sit here, David. We’ll go in back and catch up there.”

“No need for you to leave Vicki,” David responded to Vicki while looking at Willie.

Willie was opening his mouth. Vicki grabbed his hand.

“What’s going on here?” It was Roger.

“Just explaining the seating arrangements to Loomis here. I was suggesting the front of the room may not be where he belongs.”

David was creeping Willie out a little. He sounded too much like his father. “That’s alright. I think Vicki and I were done.” He started to rise.

Roger further tightened his lips beyond his usual, “You will stay where you are.” Then to his son, “William is here representing my cousin Barnabas. For God’s sake David,” he shouted without raising his voice as Roger did so well, “… show some respect and decorum at your aunt’s funeral.” He spun his son around and walked him away.

Willie and Vicki just looked at each other.

“They’ve never gotten along,” she said.

“He’s never called me ‘William’,” he said.

Later at home, Barnabas mixed a Southern Comfort Manhattan for Willie. He had noticed Willie ordered this drink when they were out together. He broke his no mixed drinks policy and learned how to make them for him. “Here you are,” he said handing the cocktail with ice to him, adding, “On the rocks, as they say.”

Willie told him about the wake and especially how much he thought Roger was looking forward to seeing him. He told him of David’s behavior saying, “Vicki told me he still holds a grudge from when I picked him up and threw him out of here.”

“He was an insolent brat as a child. I understand he has become a rude and ill-mannered adult.” The vampire added, “We shall see. As I understand, he’s moving back here. And if Roger hasn’t put a stop to his attitude towards you, I will.”

“I was a bit floored when Roger stuck up for me and called me by my first name.”

“I don’t recall if I ever told you, but during your illness a couple of years back Roger said to me you had grown on him.”

“Really. Go figure.” Willie didn’t know if he should be honored or amused. He settled on both.

“Thank you Willie for thinking through all of this. What would I do without you?"

“Ah, that’s alright Barnabas.” Then smiling, “I’ll always have your back.”

Barnabas smiled, “Yes, Willie.”

“Well I’m kinda tired. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Willie.”

****************

A presence in his room roused Willie. An extra blanket had been draped on him. The chill from the October night had been creeping through his room. Barnabas turned the heater on low, pointing it toward the window, scattering the forward advance of the cold draft. He moved to the courting candle, though burning bright, it wouldn't last until morning. Finding a new candle on the shelf of the night table, he lit it with the old. Closing the door on the lantern he glanced at the bed's occupant. Willie was watching him, his eyes shadowed by a play of the candlelight. Barnabas stroked his forehead, "Sleep Willie." He closed his eyes.

Waking again it was daylight. Looking at the courting candle he saw it had been replaced during the night and the heater had been set to ward off the cold. He barely remembered Barnabas in the room, but thought he had woken for a moment while he was there.

He dressed and made his bed. Taking his charcoal suit from the armoire he headed downstairs to make his coffee and take a shower. After steaming, the suit lost the few wrinkles it acquired being jostled in a garment bag on its last trip to New York. It wasn't freshly cleaned, but at least it didn't reek of alcohol like his black one, special thanks to Carolyn.

One more day of the Collins family. He'd already had enough, felt like an unwanted in-law. Thinking he would try to stick with Vicki he was hoping there would be no further confrontations with David. If he could skip the whole thing it would be fine by him, but he had promised Barnabas.

And where's Barnabas when you need him? He was studying his tie in the mirror, unable to get the knot just so. Looking down on the bathroom vanity he wondered how one man could make such a mess getting ready for a funeral. His toiletries were strewn about, each item left abandoned as he moved to the next. He folded, closed, wiped, replaced caps and put it all away. A final look in the mirror to straighten his tie for the twentieth time and he was on his way.

It was warm enough to drive to town with his suit jacket on the passenger seat beside him. No need to wrinkle it before getting there. The parking around the church hadn't reached impossible, but would shortly. Happy he brought the BMW, there was a nearby space his truck couldn't have managed.

The change in atmosphere penetrated him as he stepped inside the church. The echoes that rose off each surface reached for him. He saw the casket, now closed, straight ahead. His eyes moved to empty spots in the back rows of pews. Just as he focused on the spot he decided he would occupy he heard a low voice next to him, "Mr. Loomis?"

"Yes?" He never became accustomed to strangers knowing him. As part of the Collins estate he was well known throughout Collinsport, plus many remembered him as that troublesome friend of the Irishman, what's his name. The one who was run out of town one night, never to be heard from again.

"This way please," extending his arm up the aisle.

The usher walked slightly ahead past Willie's coveted seat. Willie hastened to catch up, "Right here is fine," he whispered.

"Mr. Collins made it especially clear you were to be seated with family."

He didn't need to be told the Mr. Collins referred to was his new best friend, Roger. He had somehow become a central character in the ongoing saga of Roger versus his son David. And his part would be played by William Loomis.

Approaching the front he identified the Collinses in the first two pews and there in the third sat Vicki. The usher stopped at the second row extending his arm only to see Willie had stepped in to sit next to Vicki. The usher briefly glanced skyward as if thinking _You can lead a horse to water...._

He made the right choice. As soon as he was seated, Vicki, with a tissue to her nose, let a barely audible hitch slip, dropped her head to his shoulder and wept. Looking at the stained glass window beside them he held her free hand in both of his and slowly brushed his chin from side to side across her head.

Carolyn's husband farther down the line in the next pew looked back at them and scowled. He was wondering who this guy really was. Carolyn had told him the night before he was a handyman at another house on the estate. He wasn't buying it. Yesterday at the wake he had been chummy and charming with Carolyn and now look at him today with the governess. The governess Neil had his eye on.

Willie's eyes dropped from the window and saw the man watching them. _Not now, bud._ He closed his eyes, shutting him out.

 

Vicki was doing her best to have Willie park the car and come inside. He really just wanted to get back home. "Roger's really taken a shine to you. You should have heard him last night with David."

"See, that's the kinda thing I'd like to avoid. I don't like being used like that by the two of them."

"Oh no, you're wrong. Roger said he really appreciates who you are now. And he thinks you're good for Barnabas too. He said he thinks you're grounding for him. And I couldn't agree with him more. Barnabas can be so stuffy and uptight, he's almost suffocating. I think you help keep him real." She smiled that sweet smile.

Willie had his window open, elbow propped, chewing on the side of his thumb. Collinwood made him nervous. "I really need to get home and get some work done Vicki."

"Okay. You're making me say it. I don't want to go in by myself." She was looking down at her handbag.

He was parked at the front door of the enormous house. As she spoke he had been looking out the open window. Neil and Carolyn were heading toward them. Looking out the windshield, David was on his way from there. Checking the rear view, Roger was coming up from behind. Staying here didn't seem like a good idea at all. "Alright. I won't make you go in by yourself." He put the car in gear and drove them back to the estate road.

"Oh no, Willie. We can't leave. Where are you going?"

"I'm buying you lunch."

Despite Vicki's protests he drove them up Rt. 1, following the coast. Stopping at a lobster shack he bought them lobster rolls and tonics. "It's getting to the end of the season. The shacks are all going to be closing down til spring," he said placing the plastic tray on the picnic table. It was already winding down. They were the only two in attendance on this lovely fall day. He took a long draw through his straw, "Tell me about her."

"Mrs. Stoddard?"

"Yeah. Pretend I didn't know her."

And so they sat for an hour. Willie mostly listening and Vicki giving her view of Mrs. Stoddard then David, Roger, Barnabas and anyone else who had graced the doors of Collinwood. They were all depicted as seen through Vicki's rose colored glasses. Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke with true affection for her former mistress. Willie could listen all afternoon. He knew why Barnabas had been so taken by her.

"Let's go. We'll stop for a quick drink before we head back. It'll make walking through the door easier," he said. She laughed, but didn't object.

"Won't Barnabas be mad you didn't spend all this time representing him like he asked you to?" She was stirring her drink as they sat in The Blue Whale.

"Nah. He'll be just as happy knowing you were enjoying yourself."

"Willie, you seem so at ease now. I wish you could have been years ago. I know Barnabas could be so cruel to you."

"I remember telling you a long time ago Barnabas and I would work things out between us. And we did." He slipped a tip under his glass and smiled at her. "Come on." He took her hand as she stood.

Willie immediately equipped Vicki with a sherry when they arrived in the drawing room of Collinwood. "You're not having anything?" she asked.

"No, I want to get home." He looked around the room and added, “Just want to stop by Carolyn before I go."

"That new husband of hers is a snake. If he had to pick me out of a picture lineup he'd only be able to do it if they blacked out my face and everything from the waist down."

"Ooof," Willie winced, silently thinking of a time he behaved even worse. "I'll come say goodbye before I leave."

Ten minutes later as he headed for the door there was Neil, having a conversation with Vicki's chest. Neil turned to set his empty glass on the table behind him, when he turned back to Vicki he found himself face to face with Willie. "What do you want?"

Willie dipped his head and looked over his brow. In a long-unused street punk growl, spoken low from his throat, "I want you to behave yourself around the ladies."

"Who do you think you are?"

He shifted his eyes to the side and leaned in close, "I think I'm the one who will throw your body off the cliff after Barnabas is through with you.” Now looking him square in the eye,”Got it?"

"William. What's the meaning of kidnapping Vicki?" It was his new best friend.

"Hey Roger." He smiled without a hint of menace. "Yeah, she needed a little quiet time. As a matter of fact I was just telling Neil here how she needs a little space."

"I see." And he did. He wasn't pleased with Kitten's most recent disastrous decision.

"Great. I was gonna get going. I'd like to be there when Barnabas gets home." Then added, “He really wants to be here."

"Thank you, William." Roger was sincere.

Willie gave him a knowing smile and clapped him on the arm. He said goodbye to Vicki who kissed his cheek and thanked him.

It was well on the way to dark when he drove the BMW back to the Old House. Barnabas was locking the basement as Willie walked in the back door. The vampire heard him drop the keys in the little dish on the counter. Entering the back room he was taken aback by Willie in his double breasted suit.

"Hey Barnabas. What are you smiling about?"

"Was I smiling? I didn't realize. Tell me about the day."

"Sure, but I want nothing more than to change my clothes. How about I meet you in your dressing room? You’re going to change, aren’t you?"

 

Willie woke to a weight easing onto the bed in front of him. He opened his eyes and smiled. Barnabas rested his hand on Willie’s waist. "I understand you and Victoria absconded from Collinwood," barely loud enough for Willie to hear.

"Yeah, but I told you about that. You're not mad, are ya?"

"No. On the contrary. She told me how thankful she was to you. And again later, with Carolyn's husband?"

"He's an asshole."

"Willie."

"Well he is."

"Roger said he didn't know what you told him, but he was vastly improved in demeanor afterward."

"I threatened him with you."

"With me? He hadn't even met me."

"Yeah, well when said right, even your name is scary." Willie laughed quietly and rubbed his nose in his pillow. "Did you know Roger calls me William?"

"Yes, he's been doing that for some time now." He watched Willie’s eyes slip closed. "Are you tired, my spark?"

"Mm-hmm." Willie was already starting to doze.

 

 

****************

 

"Well then maybe we just can't do this." Willie didn't know what else to say.

"Willie, you are becoming emotional."

"Oh come on, Barnabas. I can't watch you treat someone else the way you treated me. And yes, I am becoming emotional."  
Barnabas was busy in his dressing room, just off his bedroom. He was preparing to meet Karen for a movie.

Willie sat on the bed. He was busy fretting.

Barnabas was changed to his socks. Carrying his shoes out of the dressing room with him, he looked down on Willie. "I didn't say I would treat anyone the way...Well, a new person would be different."

"Yeah? How do you know?"

"I just know."

"That's not an answer."

"Come downstairs."

Willie sighed and followed him out the door.

 

Willie was building himself a fire in the library. He'd planned on spending the night reading John Grisham's "A Time to Kill". He thought now he would just spend it worrying.

"What do you want to drink, Willie?" Barnabas asked while tying his shoes. "I'll get it while I'm calling Karen to cancel."

"What?! Why?"

"Because I'd rather spend the night with you," he said straightening his cuffs and standing.

"No. Don't do that." Willie felt badly. "I'm fine. Really I am."

"We need to talk about this and I'm not leaving you home troubled over it."

"Yeah ya are." He was standing from the hearth."I need some time alone to think about it," he lied.

"Are you sure?"

Using the ubiquitous New England colloquialism he said, "Yup." He turned to face Barnabas, "Go get laid."

"Willie!"

"What? You think you're the only one who can smell a woman on someone?" He flashed a smile and reached in to pat Barnabas' ribs. "Have a good night. We'll talk tomorrow."

 

Willie was bundled against the chilly room under his blankets, facing the wall. Barnabas turned the space heater on low.

"Barnabas?"

"Yes. It is me." He checked the courting candle. It would last until morning. He laid his hand on Willie's head, “Goodnight."

 

****************

 

It was just before noon and he had all of his errands done in town. Winding his way back up the hill he was planning out the rest of the day. The days were lulling him into believing winter may actually be over. Temps hovered in the upper forties and the sunshine had been losing its winter-blue cast. There was a melt off and the roads were wet and in many places had standing water.

He brought in the groceries first and was tempted to make lunch. He knew better. It would only send him off to a nap and he had too much planned for the afternoon. He filled one pocket with Oat Thins and the other with Oreos, opened a tonic and left it on the counter where he would be passing by.

The milk paint he had ordered had finally come in. Now that the front, formal rooms of the Old House were completed along with the addition he was ready to start on the back, the servants areas. He estimated it wouldn’t take nearly as long as the front. The design wasn’t anywhere near as complicated in the back rooms, no elaborate mouldings or stenciled walls. Any furniture needing restoration was simple in design. _Lots of Shaker pieces_ , he thought. He would need to keep an eye on the auction catalogs for Shaker items as well; although, he had recently heard of a furniture maker in the Berkshires called Asher Benjamin. They made Shaker furniture of cherry and tiger maple. With these resources and having made and learned from so many mistakes in the front he felt this next phase would sail by. The front had taken him over twenty years this shouldn’t take him more than five or ten.

He started by emptying two rooms, one he swept and lightly cleaned, the other he scrubbed from top to bottom. The first would be his staging area, the other his first room of the new phase. He went to the basement where he kept his drop cloths.

With Barnabas present he was inclined to tiptoe and move as quietly as possible. It was ingrained behavior around someone sleeping. But Barnabas wasn’t really sleeping, was he? They said he “retired” to the basement, but in reality he went to the basement and died …. again. Every night Barnabas staged a little death scene for no audience. Willie would be doing his own soon, or at least as soon as he could get over his fears for himself and his replacement. That wasn’t something to be distracted by now, though. He had a lot of work to do.

Dropping off the staging room he made the trips back and forth from his truck with the items he’d picked up in town. He was looking forward to seeing how the milk paint would work out and fought the urge to just open a can and slap some on a wall. The ladders and his painting equipment were kept out in the new shed, at least that’s what he called it, new. He had demolished the old shed during a bout of severe depression years before.

The lifting and stairs were taking a toll on him. He was often surprised how much less he could accomplish in a day compared to his youth. This day it wasn’t even three in the afternoon and he was exhausted. Looking around his staging room he was pleased he had all of his supplies ready, but knew in the old days he would be working well into the evening before feeling as he did.

When he’d decided on the soaking tub for the bath in the back room he really had Barnabas in mind. There weren’t showers in the Old House in his youth and he was more comfortable with a tub. Willie only used it on rare occasions preferring the shower. This was a rare occasion. Even before deciding to call it a day he could feel his muscles tightening and now his back was sore.

Stopping in his room for a change of clothes he made his way to the back room. Making and eating an on-the-fly sandwich while the tub filled he lit a few candles for Barnabas so he wouldn’t rise to a dark house.

After stripping down, collecting a towel and checking the water temp he climbed in and sank into the warmth. He washed his hair and body then relaxed letting his mind wander on things past, present and future. If he could only get his mind fully wrapped around Barnabas’ proposal for him, but Barnabas wasn’t answering all his questions. He knew there were some he just didn’t know the answers to, but there were others he seemed cagey about. Like last night when he wouldn’t give a straight answer about how to guarantee a new caregiver’s complete and unquestioning loyalty. If it weren’t for Barnabas terrorizing him he never would have remained loyal. He never would have gotten to the tip over point where enforced loyalty became devotion. He couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t watch Barnabas do that to another young man. Knowing the pain, fear and hate, and remembering them all jelling together laying in his bed, and then having Barnabas come in the night to bath and soothe him. He always felt better after, but it was so frightening until the vampire used his powers to calm him.

He thought of lying in his bed when he was so ill a couple of years ago. Barnabas was truly afraid he would die. He even had Roger come stay and watch over him, just like he was now. It must be the flu. He felt achy all over. “I’m not going to be able to stay with you today, William,” Roger was telling him, “…. so I’ve asked David to be by your side.”

“That’s okay Roger. I’ll be fine by myself.” He didn’t want David there.

“No, I insist. I’ve promised Barnabas. Ah …. and here he is now.” He turned to David who wore a noncommittal expression, “I’ll be a couple of hours.”

David came to the bed, “You’ll call me Mr. Collins.”

“Really, David, you don’t need to stay.”

“I said MR. COLLINS!” David was shrieking at him. “Get out of bed!”

Willie tried to call for Roger. Nothing would come out of his mouth. The harder he tried the worse it became. His voice was somehow choked inside him. David was grabbing at him. He was so weak and David was younger and strong. He was dragged from his room. Desperately trying to get his feet under him David took him to the door to the third floor stairway. Finally standing on his own he tried to fight him off, but he didn’t have the strength. David threw him to the stairs leading upward. Willie couldn’t stand. He crawled up the stairs only realizing when he was almost to the top this is where David wanted him. He peered over the top step and was confused if they were on the third floor stairs or the fifth floor stairs. But could that be right? When was a fifth floor added? What about the fourth?

Pulled up and across the room he had been forced to bend over a table, the table from the kitchen. He could see the marks and gouges he himself had made steeling himself against the pain he associated with these planks. His sweatpants were being pulled from him and pooled around his feet. Now he could feel it was freezing in the room. The cold surrounded him. The room was permeated with the true age of the Old House and it was wrapped in cold. Trying to right himself he saw a window wide open, the battered curtain fluttering from frigid air blowing through. He was pushed back down. Beside his arm he saw a hand take a belt from the table. “No David. Please don’t do this to me. Please don’t.” He caught Barnabas in the distance. He heard him calling his name. _Please get here before he hits me._

“Willie."

He startled and splashed water when the two hands grabbed him by his arms. His eyes flew open and he let go a yelp.

“Willie, wake up.” Barnabas was there with him. “If you don’t drown you’ll die of cold from this water. Come. Stand up.”

Willie stood too quickly and slipped, grabbing the wall on one side and Barnabas on the other. Barnabas wrapped the towel around his shoulders as he stepped out of the tub. He stood shivering on the bathmat.

Barnabas took two more towels from the shelf giving one to Willie, “Here, start drying." He pressed the towel on Willie's shoulders to his back then replaced it with the dry one. "I'll put on the kettle for tea."

"Use the microwave. It’s faster." His teeth chattered.

“I don’t know how to use that contraption.”

_God help me._

 

Willie sat in front of the pyre Barnabas had blazing in the library. The granny square afghan he insisted Willie sit under was on his lap.

"You could have drowned."

"You're being melodramatic. It was just a lot of times up and down the stairs."

"Willie, we need to find someone to help you with this house. And we need someone to watch over it and us during the day."

Willie was staring in the fire comforting his hands with a hot mug. He didn't want to admit Barnabas was right. "Yeah, well how are we gonna do that?" He was frustrated. He knew something needed to be done, but he didn't know how.

"We'll find a young man ..... "

_How can I protect someone else from Barnabas when I couldn’t protect myself?_

"And tear him from his life and beat him down?" He was close to tears. He had promised himself he wouldn't cry anymore. He had done enough of it in his lifetime, but was this close tonight.

"Willie, let's be honest. It wasn't always like this. You weren't always like this. You weren't what we would refer to as 'upstanding'."

"So what! If we're being honest, you weren't always like this either. You were as mean as they come."

"I understand; however, I'm like this now." He took in his companion for a moment. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yeah I understand it, but God Barnabas, I can't separate myself." He was looking at the mug in his hands. "Do you know when you woke me up tonight I was dreaming about David holding me down on a table ready to take a belt to me?" He couldn't hold it anymore, a tear breached. He wiped it with his palm before it could be seen. "I haven't had a dream like that in I don't know how long. I thought they were over."

"Willie, I must tell you something, but I want it clear, I don't want you to think I'm making excuses. And I don't want you to think I'm trying to justify what was done to you.“ He went to Willie and crouched before him, hands on Willie's knees. "For me, there has always been something different about you." He took a hand and squeezed. "Willie, I had you by the throat. It should have been easy to bend you to my will. As I sat up and looked in your eyes I saw a strength there I had never seen before in any man or woman." He paused to let Willie absorb what he said.

"I was scared to death," Willie whispered.

"You were frightened .... this is certain, but what I saw in _you_ frightened _me_."

Willie looked up at this.

"I wanted to take and possess you as I had everyone before you, but you were too powerful for me. I was unable to take you down, not mentally. I had to use physical force with you. I couldn't contain you. I couldn't take you in my arms those first nights. I would have crushed you trying. Yet I needed you. So I held you down and fed from you where I could. I bit my own wrist and forced you to drink from me. It was the only way to even try to control you." He looked at Willie for his reaction. Willie put on a mask. It was a means of self protection he had developed long ago. "I tried to tell myself I had been weakened, but I could overtake anyone else. I could look in anyone's eyes and they would obey, but not you. Somehow not you. So I took even more blood from you to try to break you." He looked down to the afghan. "I thought of killing you. Thought it often, but you intrigued me, Willie. You intrigued and challenged me. The only time I could exert power over you from within was when you were weakened. I could only do it when you were tired, ill or hurt. So I overworked and hurt you." He paused, thinking carefully of what he wanted to say. “Willie, what I did to you is unforgiveable. I used you far beyond sustenance.” He paused again taking in Willie’s blank expression. “ None of this is an excuse. I am telling you to help ease your mind about what will be. About my certainty of what will be with someone else.”

Willie dropped his head.

He stood and took the afghan from Willie's lap, dropping it to the floor. Taking Willie's hands in his own he stepped back, "Come. Stand."

Barnabas took Willie’s face in his hands, “Do you understand now, Willie? Why it will not be the same for anyone else?” Willie didn’t answer. “I have never met anyone like you before or since. You are like no other. It is part of why you are so dear to me.”

Willie let out a long sigh and nodded.

"Are you warm now?"

“Yeah.” He picked up the heavy afghan and folded it, dropping it to the seat of the chair. “I’m really tired. I’m going to bed now.”

 

Willie’s days for the next week were filled with spackle and wood putty. He had emptied two more rooms and was working on all three together. He was trying to decide if he should continue on with preparing walls in more rooms or if he should get started with the painting. He did stop to apply the milk paint to one wall. It had soaked into the old plaster as if it were paper. It didn’t cover as well as a modern type paint, but it covered evenly giving the wall an effect he liked. The imperfections in the wall leached through like ghosts. It was clean, but the past was still in evidence. He ordered another ten gallons. Barnabas had little interest. When all was said and done he was still a product of his time. His position in his first life had been entrenched in the formal rooms of the house, not these back servant quarters.

Evenings were spent downstairs with Barnabas. He would read his fiction sitting in his favorite chair in the library, shoes off with his feet buried along the cushion. Barnabas would read in his upright wing chair, asking Willie the meaning of words not yet invented in his youth. They sat one night at the desk, looking over the Boston Christie’s auction catalog.

There was an auction coming up that required only an overnight stay. They had admitted to themselves and each other Willie’s multi-night absences weren’t good for either of them. Barnabas fretted the paucity of Willie’s company and Willie fretted over Barnabas at home alone.

On these single night trips they both fell in the habit of seeking out female companionship. Barnabas called from a list of a half dozen or so familiar ladies. They would go to the movies, a play or drive to a beach up the coast. He avoided entertaining in the house on these occasions, preferring to be out and active. Willie got together with ladies he met on-the-fly or whom he had spent time with on previous trips. Usually having dinner, when in Boston at his favorite restaurant, Legal Seafood, he sometimes accompanied the lady in question home. He seldom had anyone join him in his hotel suite as he didn’t want to have to kick them out. He preferred to be alone when he called Barnabas.

These days Willie was feeling the stress of these trips more than Barnabas especially after having finally lost time and blanked out while discussing an acquisition list with Mr. Dalton of Christie’s in New York. He became so confused Dalton asked his assistant to call an ambulance suspecting Mr. Loomis was having a stroke there in his office. He had his senses back by the time the paramedics arrived. Feigning exhaustion he declined a ride to the emergency room. He was grateful Barnabas wasn’t home when he called and was able to leave a message instead of talking to him directly. Barnabas always knew when something was wrong or when Willie lied to him. It was also a relief to be in New York where he didn’t have the car or truck to drive home. He took a cab to the airport and had a car pick him up when he landed in Portland. He made the decision then he would no longer drive to Boston, but fly instead.

When he did return home and told Barnabas he said how unnerving it had been and how disturbed he was to be away from home when it happened. He also confessed the frequency of these fugues was increasing. Barnabas asked if Willie wanted him to attempt to help him as he had with injuries. Initially Willie wasn’t sold, but after Barnabas found him in the back room one night with a can of soup, a bowl and a can opener, without a clue as to what to do next, he agreed.

Barnabas had him lie on his bed as he drew Willie in. Willie put up no defenses and drifted with him. The vampire could only imagine what injuries were hidden inside Willie’s skull and did his best to seek them out.

The immediate effects were frightening as Willie curled in pain and vomited for more than an hour. It felt to him like a piercing, red hot blade was sawing through the back and side of his skull. He was dizzy and nauseous with his eyes closed. He couldn’t keep them open long enough for Barnabas to help him; any attempt was met with the room reeling and more sickness. Barnabas was convinced he had done more damage than good and was relieved when Willie finally fell asleep.

And sleep he did for almost three days. He would wake occasionally during the day and then be awakened by Barnabas ministering to him at night. His face was wiped with cool towels and he was given sips of water. He surprised them both by coming out of it feeling no worse for wear. Better yet he didn’t have another of his episodes for several weeks, where they had been coming as often as every two to three days. He even told Barnabas he wanted to try it again, but wanted to wait a little while. 

 

Willie would be flying to Boston in the morning for the Christie’s auction. It became a habit to spend the night together in Willie’s room prior to a trip. For both it calmed them and left them feeling relaxed the following day and night. The room was warmed by the fire now the weather had returned to winter’s cold. Barnabas lay along Willie's side. His leg hitched up over the man almost to his waist. He propped himself up on his elbow and supported Willie's head as he leaned in and kissed his lips.

Barnabas was never harsh or demanding when kissing Willie, always a gentleman. His lips landed lightly and parted. Swiping his tongue along the roof of Willie's mouth, just behind his front teeth, he sent a mild tremor through the younger man. No grinding, only gentleness. He treated Willie with extra care, ever mindful to not be rough or in any way threatening. They had settled into a more pacific routine than in years past. Resting Willie's head back to the pillow he held his jaw in his fingers, kissing his lips again, along his jaw, just in below his ear, then down his neck to the vein he could feel pulsing under the skin. His fangs descended.

Willie's eyes opened, but he was unseeing. Feeling every nuance, he was taken firmly in hand at the same time he was bitten. Barnabas took a long draw from his neck while moving his hand slowly up then down. Willie's eyes closed as he was taken. It was light and gentle, like the vampire's kiss. A whispered "oh" dissolved to a sigh in Barnabas' ear. He felt warm and quiet, his groin now airy.

As the humming inside him faded Barnabas left Willie’s neck to watch his face, to watch as he receded deep into his pillow. He lapped at the neck to staunch the bleeding then set his head on Willie's chest, just under his chin, an arm draped over his waist.

Willie ran his fingers through the dark hair, he leaned forward and kissed the top of Barnabas' head. "Man .... That was nice." He was feeling like a puddle in the bed. Dozing for a short time he again opened his eyes as Barnabas was looking down on him.

 

He had slid his arm out from under Willie trying not to disturb him knowing the next day would be long for him. The vampire sat naked on the edge of the bed, his white complexion glowing from the moon through the window. What would Willie look like he wondered. They needed to talk more. Willie still had concerns and as usual, most of them not for himself.

Willie rolled to his side, “After tomorrow, I don’t want to go to the auctions anymore.”

“I thought you enjoyed going.”

“I did, but you and me, we have too much going on here. I would just as soon stay home and settle things.” He readjusted and worked his hands under his pillow. “We can do a lot of this with the fax, ya know. And we could invite the reps up here instead of going down there.”

“If that’s how you feel about it, we will make new arrangements.”

He rolled slightly to look up at him, “Thanks Barnabas.” He settled back into his pillow. “It’s going to be alright, isn’t it Barnabas?” He was slipping into dreams. Barnabas could just make out, “I told Jason I’m at peace.” And he was asleep, breathing rhythmically.

Turning sideways he brought one knee up on the bed and watched Willie. He wanted to savor it as these nights would be drawing to a close. Barnabas lightly stroked his face and hair. He wordlessly murmured to him and could see him slip deeper into sleep, his breathing becoming deeper and his shoulder sinking downward.

_Rest now Willie. We will work it all out._

His hand on Willie’s hip Barnabas looked around the room. He had lit the courting candle earlier and would replace it before retiring. Willie’s travel bag lay open on the floor by the chair waiting for any last minute items to be added in the morning. The armoire was open with a filled garment bag hung on the outward swung door.

The room was small. He had offered Willie his choice of any guest room in the front of the house, but the younger man had declined. He said he, “… wouldn’t feel comfortable in one of those fancy rooms,” and he claimed he could hear what was going on downstairs from this one. At first Barnabas didn’t understand, but now he saw it through Willie’s eyes. It was warm and comforting. One felt cradled in the chamber with the shadows cast by the lantern dancing along the walls. It was unassuming, like its occupant.

Their clothes lay strewn about on the floor next to the bed. Just under his own sweater he could see Willie’s sweatshirt emblazoned with the logo from the Collinsport Historical Society. He had sweatshirts from all around town. He had them from the library, the bait shop, The Blue Whale, the Collinsport Inn, the light house. If he saw a sweatshirt having to do with the town he purchased it. Collinsport was no longer a place to escape from for Willie. It was somewhere he embraced and had settled down in. As was the Old House. He had called it by its name for many years, but now it was “home”.

 

***************************

 

He was on his way to the hospital when he heard Willie calling for him, “ _I’m hurt Barnabas_.”

“ _I will be with you soon_.”

 

 

Roger was coming down the corridor, his coat sailing out behind him. Barnabas had a feeling of vertigo as he watched his cousin approach. The harsh lighting of the hospital refused to yield shadows, giving Roger a floating quality.

“What are you doing here, Roger?” Barnabas was standing from a chair in the hallway of the Emergency Room.

“The hospital left a message on the machine at Collinwood. I tried calling you, but got no answer, so I thought I would come in case they hadn’t reached you. What happened?"

"He was in a hired car coming from the airport. Another vehicle hit them. It was Willie's side of the car that went into the tree. The officer said they slid on black ice. With the thaw and then tonight's freeze, apparently it's everywhere."

Roger rested a hand on Barnabas' shoulder.

“I was told to wait here. I can see him soon."

“This is….” Roger was cut off by a nurse approaching Barnabas.

“You may come in now.” She led the way.

The vampire bolstered himself, gathering his power as he walked through the door of the triage room. He needed a few moments alone with him. His entrance commanded the attention of all present. All eyes were cast on his, "Leave me with him," he ordered. And they did.

Willie lay on the gurney, a sheet covering him to his shoulders. Barnabas lifted the sheet along his side to take his hand. A needle was inserted and taped to his vein. He took his fingers in his own, brushing them with his thumb. There was blood under his finger nails.

Barnabas looked at the black eye and bruise down the opposite side of his face. He could see blood streaked through his hair and in a bald patch where he had been shaved and stitched. But the smell of blood in his sensitive nose was pungent. There had been more bleeding than just this laceration on his scalp. “I came as soon as I could.” Shattering bits of dried blood, he brushed Willie’s hair from his face. The vampire leaned in to kiss his forehead, then laying his hand along the battered side of his head, Barnabas rested his own forehead there.

“My spark.”


End file.
